


Angie the Lesbian

by lady_blackwell



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:03:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_blackwell/pseuds/lady_blackwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does it take for a lesbian aspiring actress/waitress to meet the love of her life? Apparently, in this day and age, your future girlfriend's dead husband's 'best friend' accidentally inseminating you with your future girlfriend's dead husband's sperm.</p><p>Or, the Jane the Virgin AU nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_Our story begins fourteen years ago, when Angela Carolina Martinelli (though she would insist you call her Angie) was a mere ten years old. It should be noted that at a mere ten years old, Angie’s passions include, in no particular order: her family, God, and breadsticks._

_It should also be noted that within three years Angie’s passion for God would be replaced by a passion for **girls** , for our tiny hero is also a tiny lesbian. But that is not important yet._

“Guarda il fiore che hai in mano, Angie.”

 _This is Angie’s grandmother, Teodora Carolina Martinelli. Her passions include God and Angie. In_ _that_ _particular order._

Angie gulped nervously as she looked up at her grandmother. Nonna was both fearsome and loving; the unquestioned head of the Marintelli household. Whenever Nonna said she was going to teach a lesson, whether it be about life or discipline, she always ensured she had her pupil’s rapt attention. This was no different. Angie knew that, no matter what the lesson was, the moral would stay with her long after her grandmother had passed on.

“Guarda com'è perfetto, com'è puro.”

Angie did, gently running her fingers along the petals. What lesson could her grandmother possibly teach with something like this? She vaguely remembered the other girls discussing a “special flower” they had, and her grandmother yelling at her cousin Rachel when she had a flower go missing - was this similar to the one that Rachel had lost? 

“Adesso stropiccialo.”

Angie’s eyes widened in shock, but she slowly bent her fingers to do as her grandmother asked. Why would Nonna want her to destroy something so beautiful and perfect? As Angie felt her fingers begin to close around the flower’s soft petals, a voice from behind stopped her in her tracks.

“Really, Mom?!” the short blonde woman asked, putting in her earrings as she glared at Nonna. Angie sighed and rolled her eyes in near-embarrassment. Pajama pants and a beat-up t-shirt were the standard for a short-order cook’s night shift, but she still couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at the reappearance of the dreaded messy uniform.

_This is Angie’s mother, Vanessa Carolina Martinelli. Her passions include Angie and Lidia Bastianich. The order is not important._

“Shh!” Nonna scolded, angrily signing at Angie’s mother, glaring back. If there was one common thread among the Martinelli women, it was that all of them inherited Angie’s Bis-Bis-Bisnonna Stella’s signature glare, which had apparently once brought the great Victor Emmanuel himself to his knees. It was wonderful to avoid taking shit from outsiders, but inside the family, it made for short tempers and long arguments.

“But this is so lame…” Vanessa replied, rolling her eyes and pulling her hair up into a bun. “Baby, you don’t have to lis-”

“Mommy, shh!” Angie scolded back, and her mother shut her mouth.

“Stropiccia il fiore, Angela.” Nonna commanded, and Angie did, wincing as she felt the flower’s juices run through her fingers and stick to her palm.

“Bene,” Nonna nodded, “Ora prova a farlo tornare come prima. Dai, prova.”

Angie did, unfolding her hand and trying to stretch and smooth out the petals, but to no avail. The flower was destroyed.

“I can’t,” she said, eyes filling with tears as she looked at her grandmother.

“Esatto, non puoi. E questo è quel che succede quando perdi la verginità prima del matrimonio.,”  Nonna said gravely.

Angie gasped. Her virginity - that was the special flower she had to protect? Why? It wasn’t like boys were that special anyways, would it get harder to protect it as she got older? Was her mother tainted because she had lost her virginity before marriage, with Angie as irrefutable proof of that?

“Non si può tornare indietro,” Nonna finished, taking extra care to glare at Vanessa, who shrugged her shoulders and left the room, “Non dimenticarlo mai, Angela.”

_And while Angie eventually forgot that lesson - though she lied about both that and her sexual orientation because she needed to stay in the closet for her grandmother to not have a stroke and die, she never forgot the feeling of guilt and shame that would come with the thought of ever disappointing her grandmother._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still trying to figure out how to hover over text for it to translate, but for now, this will have to do for Nonna's dialogue:
> 
> "Look at the flower in your hand, Angie." 
> 
> "Notice how perfect it is. How pristine.”
> 
> "Now crumple it in your hand."
> 
> "Crumple the flower, Angela."
> 
> "Good. Now try to make it new again. Go on, try."
> 
> "That’s right, you can’t. And that is what happens when you lose your virginity before you marry.”
> 
> “You can’t ever go back. Never forget that, Angela."
> 
> Bis-Bis-Bis Nonna: Great-Great-Great Grandmother


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, real life is a pain. Special thanks goes to my awesome Italian translator thatrhubarbpieomine.

_Ah, you’re back. It’s been 14 years since we met our tiny hero, Angie. Let’s see what she’s up to now that she’s all grown...oh._

“Oh God, yes,” Angie whimpered as the stranger ran her nails down Angie’s abdomen and wrapped her lips around Angie’s clitoris, laving her tongue against and slowly sucking the sensitive nub. Angie fleetingly remembered that she barely knew the woman’s name, but it didn’t matter, as long as she kept doing that. The stranger had brown hair, crimson nails, and an absolutely wicked tongue, which she was currently using to bring Angie closer and closer to a screaming orgasm.

_Oh my. Well, I did tell you she was a lesbian. And now, it is important, as is the fact that she has still not told her grandmother._

“Yes, yes, there there…” Angie moaned, arching her back and writhing her hips, curling her fingers into the woman’s hair. It was so close. It was so good. It was…

Interrupted by the blaring of sirens, and Angie woke up in a haze, her alarm pulling her out of the most amazing sex (dream) she’d had in months.

_S_ _orry, Angie, it happens to the best of us. I can’t control these things_.

The young woman groaned and slammed her pillow over the alarm in frustration. She groaned even louder when she realized she would only have 45 minutes to make it to her shift - barely getting there on time, if she was lucky.  _Would it kill the world to just let me relax once in awhile_? she thought angrily as she crawled out of bed and put on her work uniform. Looking at the mirror, she groaned and pulled her hair into a bun.

“I hate my life,” she grumbled as she grabbed her bag, a change of clothes, headshot, and script, and raced into the bathroom, quickly brushing her teeth and slapping on her makeup, hoping that it would stay on from sweaty shift to audition. Deciding she looked good enough, she raced out the bathroom and towards the door, only interrupted by her grandmother’s voice.

“Angie, non hai ancora fatto colazione. Ecco,” Nonna said, handing her a lunchbox, “Dentro c'è un cornetto appena sfornato, da mangiare sul bus, e gli avanzi di ieri sera. So che più tardi hai un'audizione, perciò ho messo anche una scorta di grissini.”

“Grazie, Nonna,” Angie sighed, smiling as she kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “I’ll call after my audition, and if anything changes I’ll make sure to text mom!”

“Bene. Adesso vai!” Nonna replied, pushing Angie out the door, “In bocca al lupo!”

_ Aww, at least Angie has someone she can rely on. Unlike the bus, which got stuck in traffic and made her 20 minutes late for her shift at the L&L. For those of you not familiar with New York City, there are tourist trap restaurants located on almost every corner. The L&L is one of them. It has a World War II theme. Angie hates it. _

Angie raced through the back door, threw her stuff into the nearest corner, and snuck over to the computer. Unfortunately, luck was not on her side today, and her hopes of successfully avoiding her asshole manager were dashed when he walked into the back.

“Ange, I’m gonna need you to work a double,” Ricky said the minute she clocked in, “Marian called - she’s come down with something and since you’re the last one in, you’ll be the last one out.”

“But Ricky,” Angie whined, looking down at her short-statured and balding manager, “You know I have an audi-” 

“No buts,” Ricky responded brusquely, turning to reorganize a stack of menus, “You’ve been late three times in the past two months, so be grateful I’ve kept you on the schedule.”

Angie groaned internally, knowing he was right. “Fine,” she grumbled, “But you better not pull a switcheroo on my shifts tomorrow. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment at 9 AM.” Paying attention long enough to hear Ricky’s affirmative grunt, Angie quickly snuck into the stockroom and whipped out her cell phone, calling the casting director to apologize for not being able to make the audition and quickly texting her mom to ask if she could record the finale of  _ Cupcake Wars. _

“ANGIE,” Ricky shouted from the front, and Angie sighed, slipped her phone in her purse, and plastered a smile on her face.

At least the money from the double would be well-worth the delay in her acting career.

* * *

 

_ One of the truths of New York City is that many people like to host dinner parties, especially ones with their closest friends. Margaret Carter-Rogers: British, war widow, super spy extraordinaire, called Peggy if you don’t wish to be punched, was no different. Even if she had to borrow her friend Howard Stark’s dining room for the occasion. _

Polishing off her mutton with a satisfied smile, Peggy felt a familiar warmth bloom in her chest as she stared at her four best friends sitting around the table. The Jarvises, Edwin and Ana, were in deep conversation with James Barnes, while Howard giggled over a crude joke James had cracked moments before. Sensing that it was a perfect time to break the conversations and make the announcement, Peggy stood, clearing her throat and raising her glass.

“Thank you all for being here,” she stated, “It’s been three years since we lost Steve, but instead of mourning him today, as we usually do, I would like to use this day to celebrate.”

The rest of the table stared up at her, stunned and silent.

Peggy picked up her glass and continued on. “I want to take this day to celebrate us, and to thank you. Ever since Steve died, the four of you have been my closest confidants, and people I know I can turn to in any situation. You are the closest thing I have to family. And I wanted to take the time to acknowledge that. I am so grateful to all of you, and thankful you are part of my life. So,” she said, tipping her glass towards those gathered at the table with her, “I wanted you all to be the first to know about the new journey I will be starting tomorrow.”

Beside her, James beamed, already knowing the news that was to come. The Jarvises sat up straighter, eager to hear the news. And Howard...well, he...

“What the fuck, Peggy?” Howard growled from his side of the table, knocking back his whiskey and quickly pouring himself another.

_ Well, this is going to be interesting. _

“Howard, it’s been three years. I’ll always love Steve, but there has to be -”

“Did that little fucker Sousa finally get to you?” Howard bitterly spat back.

Peggy violently set her glass down, liquid sloshing out the sides. “My relationship with Daniel has been nothing but professional since we met. And you of all people know I have absolutely no interest in changing that. Daniel is lovely, but he certainly isn’t relationship material.”

“Oh really?” Howard snarled, shoving Ana’s arm out of the way as she tried to get him to calm down, or at least cool it with the drinking. “What else could celebrating a ‘new journey in your life’, mean? You’ve got to be a real bitch to pull that shit in front of Steve’s best friends.”

"I shouldn't have said yes to alcohol being here - it always makes you behave like an arsehole," she retorted.

“Whatever.” Howard mumbled, grabbing the decanter of whiskey and stumbling out into the hallway. “And here I thought I wasn’t gonna have to get shitfaced on the day Steve died anymore.” he mumbled as his parting shot.

Peggy collapsed back into her chair, burying her face in her hands. Disaster. Utter, utter disaster.

* * *

 

“Are you sure you’re okay with Howard not knowing about this? Could you change the day or doctor so it won’t be as shocking? ” Bucky asked as he lead her to her car while the Jarvis's stayed behind to ensure Howard got to bed safely.

“Yes,” Peggy replied, digging through her purse for her car keys, “I know I should go to someone else, especially after how he acted today, but he’s the only one I trust to be discreet and he’s the only one who has what I need. I know it will be a shock tomorrow, but I’d hate to know what he would have done had I told him today. And I can’t change the day. They’ve already started the process to thaw his sample - refreezing it would destroy it. Plus, tomorrow was the only time they had open for months. It was, ironically, the only free day that worked for them and me.”

Bucky nodded in understanding, graciously opening her car door as soon as she had unlocked it, and pulling her into a tight hug. “You call me if you need anything, okay? Let me know how it goes.”

“I will,” Peggy said, and kissed Bucky on the cheek before getting into her car. Pausing, she started the car and opened the window, reaching out to grasp Bucky’s prosthetic hand. “You know, I never expected my life to turn out this way. And this utterly terrifies me because I’m doing this by myself and I know it may not work. I wish Steve were here to experience it. But this is also the most peaceful I’ve felt since he died. It’s strange, but it’s my only chance to do this, and it just feels right.”

Bucky smiled gently. “Hey, if it feels right to you, that’s all that matters. Your body, your choice. And you aren’t doing this alone. You have me, Ana, Edwin - even Howard. We’ll be here for you no matter what happens.”

“Thank you, James,” Peggy responded, letting go of Bucky’s hand before rolling up the car window and driving away.

Bucky smiled at the slowly disappearing car before walking towards his motorcycle, but the sound of his phone ringing stopped him in his tracks.

“Bucky Barn- no, I’m alone. WHAT. No, I - no, I’ll handle it. No, you do not want her to get involved. And I do not want her to get involved. I - just listen to me, you piece of shit. If you get anyone else involved in this, especially Peggy, I will rip you to shreds. Do we have a deal?”

Violently hanging up, Bucky straddled his motorcycle and sped off in the opposite direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A translation of what Angie's grandmother says:
> 
> "Angie, you haven’t had breakfast yet. Here. There’s a fresh cornetto in there for you to eat on the bus, and our leftovers from last night. I know you have an audition today, so I made sure to include extra breadsticks."
> 
> “Bene. Now go! “Break a leg/Good luck!”


End file.
